


Missing You

by LudicrousFanfic (LudicrousAuthor)



Series: The Umbrella Academy ---> My Verse [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Big Brother Diego, Brotherhood, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Diego Hargreeves Is A Softie, Gen, Heart-to-Heart, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Has A Sort Of Crush, Klaus Is High Again, M/M, Mentioned Clothes Stealing, Protective Diego Hargreeves, best brothers, if that wasn't obvious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-06 01:49:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17930501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LudicrousAuthor/pseuds/LudicrousFanfic
Summary: “You know, I love you,” he smiled against his brother, leaning into him and hearing the scoff that left him, his smile turning serious immediately. “No, I do,” he assured firmly, forcibly stopping them by standing in place.“You’re high,” Diego stated flatly,----------Klaus trying to get to his room after Pogo sent him to bed for finding him high again and Diego finds him. He helps him to bed with a little heart to heart along the way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> \- I haven't actually read the comics, I plan to, though.  
> \- I based this from the Netflix/Show version of TUA.  
> \- AU where the Apocalypse was avoided, Pogo didn't die, and they didn't need to time travel back. All is good.

Klaus stalked up the stairs sluggishly, his hands climbing the steps along with his converce’d feet and keeping him from falling back in his crawling position. He groaned and grunted to himself, eyes barely open through his blissed-out high. He had taken something just slightly stronger than usual, thanks to a nightmare and it had left him unconscious, which was what he wanted, but then Pogo found him, scolding him and proceeded to send him to bed.

His movements grew slow and even sluggish-er, stopping short of the last few steps to groan through his closed, smile curved lips. He couldn’t make it to his room. He already felt like a bag of heavy, rubbery limbs melting into the floor. For once, he had felt like sleeping through it in his bed to avoid the constant complaints of his siblings finding him in various places would actually be a step up. He’d be sure to thank Pogo for ordering him to bed.

“Not good, but soooo good,” he grinned, starting to chuckle as he lowered his forehead to one of the last steps, completely losing the last of his sobriety right there. He stretched his legs, an arm reaching up to grab the bannister in his drowsy hysterics.

“Klaus, seriously?” the disappointed tone was easy to hear in his haze, Klaus straining his neck to look up at the heavy combat boots and completely blacked out gear. His smile grew, becoming a beaming, disoriented grin.

“Diego, Diego, Hiii~,” he greeted gleefully, his voice soft and almost a purr as it left his mouth. All of his drug-induced happiness just grew, becoming far more genuine. The look on the other mans’ face, however, seemed very _resigned father-y_ for Klaus’ liking.

Though instead of saying anything, Diego only sighed, a hand being held out for the drug addict to reach up and take.

“C’mon,” he gestured, motioning with his fingers to just grab his hand. With a high pitched chuckle, he did, Klaus lifting a heavy arm and letting his hand fall into Diego’s, the other mans’ grip catching his before he could lose his grip due to his hazed state.

He could almost feel the muscle and power behind his brothers’ movements as he was dragged up the rest of the stairs and to his feet, and arm being laced around his waist and a hand grabbing his belt, the other hand pressing against his chest so that he didn't fall forward.

“You know, I love you,” he smiled against his brother, leaning into him and hearing the scoff that left him, his smile turning serious immediately. “No, I do,” he assured firmly, forcibly stopping them by standing in place, causing Diego to stop short and turn to stare at him.

“More than any of the others,” Klaus added, still serious and still refusing to move from where he stopped, his eyes hazily focused, glossy in his stare.

“You’re high,” Diego stated flatly, leaning in and countering Klaus’ gaze with his own, far sharper, far more keenly trained and strong, something in it making him feel weak in the knees like it always had when they reached their teens.

“I am, thanks for noticing, but no,” he grinned, but it was far more thoughtful. While they stood there, he reached his hands up, cupping his brothers face and leaning in close, foreheads softly connecting and Diego didn't even avoid the touch or try to get out of it. “Your disappointed faces, I can always see the concern and something loving there. None of the others have that, not for me,” he wasn't wrong when he thought that he felt Diego lean into his touch, he did lean in and even press back.

“They care about you,” he replied quietly yet still firm in tone. Though it could be questioned whether he was trying to convince _himself_ rather than Klaus. The addict knew what the others saw and thought of him and it was far different from what Diego saw and felt.

“They’re exasperated by me and expect to find me dead in an alley,” he countered, his tone showing his lack of expectation in all of them. And Diego removed their touch, leaning back to stare him dead in the eye with a closed off, guarded glare.

“And I don’t?!” he snapped back, his tone sharp and harsh, guarded like his eyes and posture. He was forced to walk again, Klaus huffing softly and having the momentary strength over Diego’s still gentle hold to direct them towards another room that didn't belong to the addict, said room belonging to the very brother that currently had a hold of him. And Diego being Diego, his brother let him use his room. It was fun being the favourite for one of his siblings.

Once they were in the room, he felt Diego loosen his grip, the mattress catching Klaus as he was dropped to it. He huffed softly, staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression.

“The difference is…” he trailed off softly, never blinking and catching his brothers' attention before he could leave completely. “You’re _scared_ to find me in an alley. You _hope_ that you won’t find me in an alley. The others aren’t,” Klaus sniffed softly, his voice cracking just slightly, but thankfully, he didn't cry or show any sign of it. “They’re wondering _when,”_ he simply sounded weak, vulnerable, but in Diego’s presence, he couldn’t have cared less.

“Klaus,” his brother called gently, his name being said like a statement. He saw his large figure block the light ahead of him, the man now leaning over him and he drew Klaus’ gaze, his eyes slowly landing on him and gazing warmly, a very fine and soft smile drawing at his lips, curving them.

“I missed you, Diego. You and Ben. You’re the only two I ever miss,” he whispered, just barely audible, but loud enough for Diego to be able to hear, and by the crooked smile, somewhat sad, that tugged at _his_ lips, he definitely heard it.

“I missed you too, idiot,” just like his own, the words had been barely spoken, soft and gentle, a whisper for only the other to hear, and Klaus would cherish them until his inevitable death day.

“I’ll remember you said that,” he smirked, teeth showing and eyes gleaming with love while he sprawled out across his brothers' bed, reluctantly moving until his head landed on Diego’s pillow and the rest of his body stretched out along the warn mattress.

“No you won’t,” his brother scoffed faintly, the sound of it conveying his slight bemusement. Not a moment later, he heard the man turn and step away. “I’ll be back,”

“Don’t get hurt,” Klaus spoke up without a beat between his words and his own. He remembered Diego’s _job,_ or what he did to satisfy his meaning of life and though he was a hard man to hurt, let alone take down, Klaus’ heart still violently skipped when he saw blood on him, be it his own or not.

“Not my intention. You better still be there when I get back,” Diego pointed towards him, the addict grinning as he watched him step out of the room and head towards the stairs he had found Klaus on previously.

“Promise!” he called out for him to hear. He would bet his drug stash that he wouldn’t be moving for hours. He loved Diego’s bed and the warmth he felt when he stole his bigger brothers’ clothes and sheets. He’d still be there when Diego got back. Awake or not.


	2. Chapter 2

Diego groaned to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose and attempting to shake off the dizziness after a particularly harsh blow to the head to avoid getting a bullet lodged in it. He hadn’t expected the other two guys. There were five and he took on three, not really having the advantage to begin with but he fought them off. Then the other two showed up. He got hurt, badly, but still saved the Damsel. A pretty ungrateful one, but nevertheless, she was safe.

He blinked the disorientation away, shaking his head slightly as he reached the top stair, turning towards the hall and then towards his room with sluggish movements. He reached for his door handle and paused, only then remembering that he gave his bed to Klaus for the night, to let him use his space as a sanctuary. He wasn't entirely sure whether he was still there or not.

Diego quietly turned the handle and inched the door open, peaking in and feeling relief and familiarity when he saw the other man sprawled out and asleep, the pillow cradled to his chest and half under his head, the blank drawn  _ around _ his legs and back rather than  _ over _ him.

He slowly eased the door open, thankful to whomever apparently greased his door hinges as they made no sound whatsoever. Diego stepped into his room, closing the thick wood slab behind him and gradually made his way over to the bed, stopping short of it and gazing down at the heavily sleeping form softly breathing and seeming so deep in his peace that it would be too far fetched for one to imagine that he was haunted by ghosts and nightmares and used drugs, alcohol and other self-destructive ways to hide from them.

He didn't blame him for wanting to hide, Diego couldn’t even imagine what he had to go through on a daily basis, but it had to be enough to traumatize him into using those kinds of means to avoid facing it. Contrary to what their siblings said or thought of Klaus, the man was strong, far stronger than any of them and far more traumatized because of it.

Diego slowly reached out, his fingers brushing through his brothers hair for a moment, shifting the curls with a soft caress before reluctantly pulling away and stepping towards the bottom of the bed, turning around and achingly lowering himself to the ground with his sore back pressed back against the bed frame, using it as a brace and to let his body relax. He drew his legs closer, knees bending and head dropping back against the mattress.

The more his body eased, the more he could feel his recently acquired wounds, a tired frown drawing tighter at his features and trying to pull a pained sound from him, but he refused to let it slip past his lips at the risk of waking Klaus. Instead, he let it pass, letting the throbs, aches, pains and stings do what they do while holding himself, restraining his vocal cords.

His pants were soft but deep, barely audible and he refused to move, body protesting by just the thought of lifting an arm or even breathing too hard. Thankfully, he didn't plan on moving for a while after this job. He felt as though he could actually sleep where he was, everything feeling heavy and delusionally comfortable on the rough, thin carpet and solid, hardwood bed frame, both of which would give him a numb ass and even sorer back after only a few minutes. Regardless, he actually felt like he was about to fall asleep, the mattress being a plush and comfortable enough pillow. What helped towards his state, the ankle and front of Klaus’ foot rubbing against the back of his skull.

“When did you wake up?” he muttered softly in question, tilting his head just slightly up the bed and seeing the bright greeny-grey eyes shining back at him, his eased features showing how well rested he finally was after all this time. Vibrant, glowing, beautiful.

“You were already sitting there,” so he didn't wake him then, good. Diego smiled tiredly, Klaus returning one of his own and completely overpowering and incredible, with genuine feeling and pure contentedness filling his eyes.

“You a’right?” his brother shifted slightly to Diego’s guilt. He didn't want him to move, he wanted him to stay comfortable and stay put and not have to worry about his current state. But Klaus being Klaus, he sat up, an arm bracing him, keeping him in a sitting position. 

“Yeah,” he replied softly, still watching him and only then spying the black, expectedly baggy, lounge pants with his name on the outer hem,  _ Number Two “Diego” _ printed to a grey tag sewn to the centre between the laces.

“Don’t lie to me,” Klaus sighed, voice quiet as he slowly started moving, his legs slipping over the side of the bed, to Diego dismay. He watched him scoot to the edge of the bed and begin to tie the laces to keep the pants from falling. “I told you not to get hurt,” his brother reminded as he stood, and though he tied them to his waist so that they wouldn’t fall, they dragged, the length of them being only other issue.

_ Or not entirely an issue. Diego really appreciated the view of Klaus wearing his clothes and using his bed. Both appealing to the eye and it gave him a sense of purpose, that he was needed, even if he only required the things he owned. _

“Don’t know if you noticed, but I don’t listen all that well,” he chuckled, voice straining with the noise as his chest and stomach protested to the vibration the sound brought on. He groaned slightly, shifting his legs to get a better position, his ass starting to get numb.

“Strip,” Klaus ordered, pointing at him from the middle of the bedroom. He watched in disappointment as his brother headed for the door and stepped out of the room, not completely closing it behind him before sauntering away. Diego huffed softly, staring up at the ceiling and letting another sound of ache leave him before even attempting to move, pressing a hand against the carpet and locking it straight. He pushed himself forward, legs automatically crossing and body slumping forward.

“You better be stripping,” he heard his brother call out from the bathroom halfway up the hall, an image passing through his mind of Mother-Hen Klaus, actually being domestic, wearing a dress,  _ like that was anything new, _ and Mother-Hen-y.

“Yeah,” Diego called back, his voice sounding strained and deeper from the constant throbbing and his current position. He groaned softly and forced himself to straighten up, reaching for the sheath belts all over his upper half and unclipping them from his person before setting them aside. Diego then lowered his hands to the hem of his thick shirts, hissing silently as he dragged both upwards, pulling them over his head and off, tossing the shirts aside and gasping as if he had held his breath through the ordeal.

He breathed harshly and leant back against the bed frame again, sitting just slightly straighter while panting. Diego dropped his head against the mattress again, eyes closing as he tried to regulate his breathing, taking as many deep breaths as he could before his panting sounded next to normal.

“Ooooh, those look nasty,” Diego dropped his gaze to the door, relief passing through him when he saw Klaus standing there with a big bowl of steaming water and a bunch of cloths.

“Feels it,” he groaned, still focused on keeping his breathing regulated so as not to worry his brother, who then stared at him with an expectant look on his face as if he wanted elaboration. “You said not to lie to you,” he shrugged, regretting it immediately.

“I mean, I’m  _ glad _ that you listened there,” he actually seemed somewhat surprised. Diego smiled, being careful as he chuckled and relaxed as Klaus stepped into the room, kicking the door closed before making his way over and setting the bowl and cloths down, his brother kneeling beside him, his legs crossing.

“Seriously, are you okay,” concern was clear in his tone and Diego felt guilty that he caused it. He lifted his head and glanced towards him, the glance turning into gazing as soon as they landed on the beautiful and seemingly well rested smaller man.

“I wasn't until I opened the door and saw you still in my bed,” he replied calmly, pain numbing with his distraction sitting so close beside him. He felt the wet heat of the cloth brushing over his skin, but he barely reacted, his eyes and mind focused on his brother, using him as a means to ignore everything else, which happened to be a very easy thing to accomplish.

“I promised and I keep my promises,” Klaus smiled widely, but more bemused than anything and Diego gave him a flat smirk, a brow quirking, silently correcting him. “Okay, I only keep my promises to you,” again, his brow quirked higher, the other joining. “When I feel like it,”

“That’s more like it,” he finally nodded in agreement, fighting against the wince as Klaus ran the warm, wet cloth over his wound. Diego watched him intently, eyes roaming his seemingly happier face and feeling pride that he may have had a hand in that by letting him use his room and bed, as a safe place or just to sleep away the ghosts and high, it didn't matter as long as Klaus felt better after it. He’d let him use his stuff for as long as he wanted.

“You need to start promising me you won’t get hurt,” his brother muttered softly, Diego refocusing and gazing at him with a quirked brow. “I don’t like it,” he glanced to where he gestured, counting the bruises and few gashes that littered his waist and upper body and then his face here and there. In all honesty, he felt something akin to guilt for the concern Klaus gave him.

“I can’t promise that,” Diego replied dejectedly, head dropping forward and avoiding his brother’s eye. Keeping a promise like that would mean that he would have to keep out of reach of the bad guys and if he did, they would always have the advantage. Though he had many knives hidden on his person, they weren’t unlimited.

“Please,” Klaus leaned in, Diego catching him from the corner of his eye and he snapped his gaze up, their eyes locking with Klaus seeming anxious, anxious due to his brother’s state and inevitable beatings to come that came with his job. “Even if you can’t keep it,”

It only then dawned on him that he only wanted the promise as a way to fight off his worry and anxiety of Diego getting seriously hurt, a fear that he had seen once before, years ago when Ben had been extremely hurt.

He gnawed his lip and lifted his arm, ignoring the throbbing and pain in favour of brushing his fingers against his brother’s face, cupping his jaw and internally apologizing for the little smudge of blood he left on his cheek while he intently took in Klaus.

“I promise,” he spoke softly, but the firmness of the tone showed how much he meant it as he said he did promise. He promised to try his best to avoid getting injured, to avoid returning home hurt and bloody and in the mess of a state Klaus found him in.

Diego brushed his thumb over his brother's cheekbone, eyes still locked and a smile graced his lips and one began stretching across Klaus’. “I promise,” he repeated, watching and feeling his brothers hand brush along the back of his own.

I’m gonna hold you to it,” Klaus softly replied, his smile loving and hopeful. Hopeful that Diego didn't return with more injuries. He’d try his best, he really would,  _ for Klaus. _

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> \- My Tumblr, [Click Here](https://tyjax-eeowen.tumblr.com/)  
> \- My Wattpad, [Click Here](https://www.wattpad.com/user/EllisEOwen)  
> \- My DeviantArt, [Click Here](https://www.deviantart.com/eeowen)
> 
> Also, if you saw any mistakes, feel free to point them out.  
> \- Repeating the sentence in the comment would be a great help. I'll know where to find it if you do that.


End file.
